


Holding Patterns

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BB-8 Ships It, Community: tfa_kink, Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"They think they're just friends," Jess explains. "With benefits, sure. Don't get me wrong, friends with benefits is great if that's what you want. But now it's like they're locked into this holding pattern where things are good </i>enough,<i> and neither of them is willing to take the next step."</i></p><p>
  <i>"Maybe there is no next step," Finn says, and he can hear the belligerence in his tone; he's not really sure where it's coming from. "Maybe things really are good enough."</i>
</p><p>Or, the one where Poe has the flu and Finn takes care of him, all the while insisting that they're NOT ACTUALLY TOGETHER, although everyone in the Resistance has this idea that they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Patterns

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this request](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=8580473#cmt8580473) on the tfa kink meme, and also kind of on [this](http://iseult-1124.tumblr.com/post/142842935721/bb-8-i-have-done-nothing-wrong-in-my-life) Tumblr post.

From the time Finn first notices Poe's uncontrollable shivering in the mess hall at breakfast, to the time he finally gets him into bed, it's a good forty-five minutes. Poe is nothing if not stubborn, even when his throat is so raw he can hardly speak; even when his joints ache so badly that he can't even wave off Finn's concerns without wincing. 

Fortunately, it isn't hard convincing Poe's squadrons to turn on their commander; when he tries to sneak off to _Black One_ , Snap, Iolo, and Nien Nunb are waiting for him in the hangar, barring his way. "Traitors," he mutters as he's dragged bodily away from his beloved T-70. "You're all fired."

And it isn't hard convincing Dr. Kalonia to give him a sleeptab, once Finn explains who it's for.

"You're right," she says with a wry smile, as she hands it over to Finn. "This is the only way. May the Force be with you, young man.

"It's just the flu," she adds kindly when Finn, struck by her glib tone, just stands there staring. "Keep him isolated so he doesn't infect anyone else, keep him warm while he's feverish, give him plenty of fluids, and make sure he gets plenty of rest. He can take something mild for the aches, but send for me right away if you can't get any fluids into him or if he shows any shortness of breath." She pats Finn's hand. "But we're talking about a generally healthy young person, with no history of respiratory illness; your Commander Dameron should be back on his feet in a few days."

Finn wants to say _he's not_ my _Commander Dameron,_ but he has the feeling she'll just give him the kind of look he tends to get from Rey and Jessika Pava when he tries to insist that they're not actually _together_ in the way that many people around the base seem to think. They're just friends. Who fuck. ( _Yeah, but is that what you_ want? Rey will ask. _It doesn't matter,_ Finn says with a tight smile. _I'm pretty sure it's what he wants._ Hands on her hips, Jess demands, _Are you_ sure? _Has he actually said that? Do you two actually talk about--_ She drops her voice, like she's about to utter a dirty word, _\--feelings?_ No, they don't. And no, Poe hasn't. And, no. Finn isn't sure, not at all. But this is where they are.)

Anyhow, Poe is down for the count now, curled up under as many blankets as Finn was able to requisition. He drank a cup of hot water before passing out, and Finn hopes that's enough for the time being. He's still shivering, and occasionally he mutters feverishly to himself, mostly about flight patterns and drills - though once he gets worked up about sintaril in his sleeping bag, and Finn, who knows the story behind Poe's deep-seated fear of the Yavinese rodents, has to get into bed beside him, wrap him tight in his arms, and just hold him until he settles back down.

But mostly, Poe just _sleeps._ Healing, instead of pushing himself beyond all reasonable limits.

For his own part - when he's not protecting Poe from imaginary sintaril - Finn sits beside him in a chair, reading from his data pad, occasionally reaching over to readjust the blankets when they slide off his shoulders, or to stroke his hair. He's not worried about contagion; his enhanced immune system - probably the only good thing the First Order ever did for him, or anyone - renders him immune to most viruses. 

But even if he weren't, it's hard to worry about himself when Poe is lying there, pale and enervated, and just looking so … small. It feels strange to think of him that way, almost like a betrayal; Poe Dameron charges through life with so much vigor, it's easy to forget that, comparatively speaking, he really doesn't take up a whole lot of space. Right now he looks lost under all those blankets, and it's _wrong_ , Finn thinks, his fingers curling and flexing helplessly against his thigh. He hates it, hates that there isn't more he can do. He can't just whisk him away from this. Grab the prisoner and run.

"It'll be okay," he says, more for his own benefit than for Poe, who doesn't stir.

Finn jumps when he hears the door chime, and swears under his breath. Nobody's supposed to come by; he stationed BB-8 outside Poe's door with explicit instructions to turn anyone and everyone away. Not that Poe's droid has ever paid much mind to what Finn says, but he thought that maybe, under these extenuating circumstances… 

First checking Poe to make sure the sound didn't disturb him, Finn sets his data pad aside, gets up, and goes quietly to see who it is.

It's General Organa.

BB-8 burbles apologetically up at Finn, but, no, he gets it: you don't say no to the General. Poe himself would probably be aghast if he even tried.

"It's all right, Finn," she says with a kind smile. "There's no need to look so conflicted. I won't come in. I just wanted to ask you how he's doing."

Finn looks over his shoulder at Poe; all he can see is the top of his head, the black curls smeared across his brow. Turning back to the General, he expels a heavy breath and admits, "I don't know. Dr. Kalonia didn't seem worried, but…"

"But you've never had to deal with illness before, and it's especially hard when it's someone you care for." She surprises him by reaching for his hand and giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. "If it helps, I'm sure he couldn't ask for better care."

"I'm not even doing anything."

"That's not true. Thanks to you, he's resting as he should be instead of practicing barrel rolls. And you're keeping him company."

"He's asleep."

"He knows you're there, believe me." She squeezes his fingers again - she has the smallest hands he thinks he's ever seen on a grown woman, but her grip is strong - then lets him go and moves back a pace. "I'll send a droid by in a few hours with some soup. Tell BB-8 not to give him a hard time."

"BB-8 doesn't listen to me."

BB-8 makes a small, indignant sound.

"Oh, you're not fooling anyone," the General says admonishingly, arching one fine eyebrow. "We know you have one master only. But listen to Finn. Those are _my_ orders."

BB-8 looks from one human to the other before emitting a resigned-sounding whistle. "That's right," says Finn, after the General has disappeared down the corridor. He waggles a finger in front of the droid's photoreceptor. "Ha!"

BB-8 bleeps warningly.

 _Oh. Right._ Chagrined, Finn goes quickly to check on Poe, who - thank the Maker - seems not to have moved so much as a finger during the whole commotion. "Ha," he whispers to BB-8. As the door slides closed again, his eyes catch a flicker of blue light: BB-8's lighter. This time Finn is pretty sure he's being flipped off. But it's fine, he doesn't care. He feels slightly more in control now.

* * * *

The day drags by without much change. Finn reads, and watches Poe. He tinkers with a console he's supposed to be rewiring, and watches Poe. He does a few sets of crunches and pushups - quietly. And watches Poe. By early afternoon, the shivers have subsided and some of the color has come back to his cheeks. His skin is still hot to the touch, but not like this morning when it was practically searing, and his breaths seem shallow but unconstricted.

Kneeling on the floor by the bed, Finn tenderly combs the hair away from Poe's face and whispers, "Guess what: I think you're going to live. Not that _you_ were worried. What would you've done if I hadn't basically drugged you and hauled your ass to bed? Taken off in _Black One_?" He shakes his head. "What would you do without me, Poe Dameron? I think you owe me again. Don't worry: I take payment in lots of different forms." Leaning closer, he adds, "And lots of different positions."

Poe's lashes flutter briefly, but otherwise he doesn't react - a good indication, Finn thinks, sitting back on his heels, of how truly ill he is.

"Later," Finn tells him. "You can pay me back later. 'Cause you're gonna be okay."

The door chimes. Thinking it must be General Organa's droid with the soup, Finn climbs stiffly to his feet and goes to answer it.

"Hi," says Rey with a little wave. Her other arm is looped around Jess Pava's waist. "Don't be mad at BB-8."

Finn glares down at the droid. "I'm telling Poe."

BB-8 whistles innocently.

"It's okay, we'll leave in just a second," Jess promises. "We just wanted to make sure he's okay. We figured he probably was, since he's not actually in the hospital, but…"

"You're protective," says Rey.

"We like him," Jess agrees, nodding. "'We' being his squadrons."

"I like him too," says Rey.

"I know you do," says Jess. "So does Finn."

There's a gleam in her dark eyes, and Finn's soldier's training kicks in, maybe a little too late, as he thinks with sudden clarity, _I'm about to be ambushed. Help._

"Finn _really_ likes him. And d'you know what's sad?" Jess continues, looking at Rey. "Poe has no idea. He thinks Finn only _likes_ him."

"I'm confused," says Rey, and this is all so blatantly rehearsed that Finn wants to bang his head against the doorframe. But he lets them go on because, well, they're his friends, and it's clear from the way BB-8 swivels his head so he can look at each speaker in turn that this is all quite edifying to him.

"They think they're just friends," Jess explains. "With benefits, sure. Don't get me wrong, friends with benefits is great if that's what you want. But now it's like they're locked into this holding pattern where things are good _enough,_ and neither of them is willing to take the next step."

"Maybe there is no next step," Finn says, and he can hear the belligerence in his tone; he's not really sure where it's coming from. "Maybe things really are good enough."

Rey's eyes turn suddenly sad and she lifts a hand as if to reach for Finn, but she lets it drop back to her side when Jess says, no longer in that teasing tone, "Since I met him, Poe's had a few friends with benefits. Probably some of them you could just call fuck buddies, I guess. I don't remember _any_ of them keeping guard over him while he was sick. And I'm pretty sure none of them ever looked at him the way you do. You guys just need to break out of your holding pattern. It's _not_ that scary, trust me."

"No, it's not," says Rey, looking at Jess with her head slightly tilted, her lips curling upward at the corners. 

"I'm closing the door," Finn says, because sometimes, in the face of overwhelming opposition, retreating is all you can do.

Jess grabs his arm. "You should tell him," she says, all pretense gone from her voice and her eyes. "He loves you like crazy, but he's never going to say it because he's stupid. Do it now, while he's weak and can't give you shit."

Rey tugs her back, then she puts her own hand gently on Finn's arm. "Do it your own way, when you're ready," she says, looking into his eyes the way she used to in the very beginning, when it was just the two of them against the galaxy. "He's not going anywhere. And we're not trying to give you a hard time. We also wanted to see how _you_ were doing. We're just saying all this because we like you too."

"Definitely," Jess agrees. "Sometimes we actually like you more than Poe."

 

After they've gone, Finn walks tiredly back to the chair by Poe's bed and drops into it. He's not going to think about what he just heard, he decides. Not right now, anyhow. Later, when Poe's feeling better. It's not fair, making decisions that concern him directly, when he's not even conscious.

In his head he hears Rey's voice, informing him that that isn't just an excuse, it's a pathetic one. He knows she's right too - because, let's face it, when isn't she? - but...

 _Later,_ he thinks with a dismissive shrug, reaching for his data pad and turning it on. Later, when he's alone and can think a little straighter. When he doesn't have to listen to the sound of Poe's breathing. He stares with determination at the words on the screen, and a few minutes pass before it occurs to him that he's not actually reading. 

_Would anything really change if I said it?_

He sets the data pad down on his thigh and looks over at Poe. As he does, something heavy seems to settle in his throat.

_Would I feel any different if you said it?_

Finn isn't sleeping with anyone else, and has no desire to. If Poe is sleeping with other people, he hasn't said a word about it to Finn or anyone who'd be likely to tell him. It's possible, Finn supposes, that Poe hooks up every time he goes off on a mission by himself, and he's just being really discreet about it. Why, though? Because that's just his nature? Because he's trying to protect Finn's feelings?

If he found out that Poe occasionally slept with other people, or even half the galaxy, would he care?

 _He's not_ my _Commander Dameron._

No, he's not. Though everyone in the Resistance, from Jess Pava to General Organa seems to think so.

Would it make a difference if he were?

 _Not today_ , thinks Finn. Without taking his eyes off Poe, he turns off the data pad and puts it aside. "You know they all love you," he says softly. "Everyone in your squadrons, BB-8, General Organa, even Dr. Kalonia. You know they do. It must be something…" 

The thing in his throat moves and thickens so that now it's difficult to even breathe, never mind speak. It must be something, Finn thinks, to be so loved, and to be so secure in the knowledge of that love that you can push back against it without fear. He swallows painfully and reaches for Poe's hand, threading the lifeless fingers with his own. 

_D'you really need one more person telling you?_

* * * *

Poe begins to stir around early evening. Finn, who's been half-dozing in his chair for the past hour or so, is jerked fully awake by the sound of his groans as he struggles weakly against the mountain of blankets covering him. "Wait," Finn says, and for once Poe listens to him, stopping what he's doing and looking up at him blearily. "Wait," he says again, shoving an arm under Poe's shoulders and helping him into a half-seated position against the pillows. He grabs the cup of water from the nightstand. When Poe frowns, he says sternly, "Dr. Kalonia said fluids. She also said to call her if I couldn't get any into you. Should I call her?"

"No," Poe sighs, and lets Finn place the straw carefully between his lips. After a few obedient sips, he leans back against Finn's shoulder and closes his eyes. He's so utterly still that Finn thinks he must have fallen asleep again, so he sets the water down and starts to get up. 

"Don't," Poe says in a voice that pinches Finn's heart. His brow creases with the effort of lifting his lashes just a crack. "Stay?"

So Finn stays. He shifts his body so he's more fully on the bed and holds Poe against him. He can feel each shallow breath, each shudder that moves through his frame. It seems stupid to ask Poe how he feels, but he does anyway, partly because he doesn't know what else to say, partly because, with the exception of those two interruptions, it's been so _quiet_ all day, and quiet feels wrong in a place like this. It feels like waiting for an enemy to strike.

"Hmm," Poe mumbles against his shirt. "Like I got stepped on by an AT-AT walker."

"Yeah, you kind of look like you did," Finn tells him, and Poe's lips quirk briefly.

"Sh'not nice. M'sick."

"Oh. So you admit it."

That doesn't elicit a smile. Instead, Poe tilts his head and looks up at him, and those _can't_ be tears, it has to be a trick of the light or the fever, but his eyes seem very bright. "M'sorry about before."

"It's okay," Finn assures him. 

"Thanks for not letting me--"

Finn strokes his cheek. "It's okay. I feel like I should tell you, I sewed a tracker into all of your flight suits, so you can't run off on me. Don't worry: I'll only use it in extreme circumstances."

"You were here the whole day." It's not a question, so it doesn't require an answer. But Finn opens his mouth anyway to say _Yes, of course, where else did you think I'd be?_ He's stopped, however, by a commotion out in the corridor: BB-8's loud trilling, and an answering cacophony of beeps and whistles. Poe looks at him in confusion.

"That had better be the soup," Finn says, though he's equally dumbfounded.

"You ordered takeout?"

Finn kisses his forehead, then carefully lays him back down against his pillows so he can get up and find out what is going on. 

As soon as he opens the door, BB-8 whirls around and starts jabbering at him in Binary, which of course he can't understand. But it's obvious what has BB-8 so upset: Finn counts seven droids, mostly astromechs, cramming the corridor outside Poe's door. Each one is carrying a bowl or a pot or a thermos of what appears to be steaming soup.

"Um," says Finn, at a loss.

BB-8 turns back to the other droids and scolds them shrilly.

"Um." Finn scratches at the back of his neck. "The General didn't send _all_ of you, did she?"

The answering clamor is completely unintelligible. "Quiet!" he snaps, raising his hands. "You're not helping. BB-8, tell them. If they don't shut up, they're gonna make him feel worse."

At that, BB-8 lets out a blistering torrent of squeals and clicks, which goes on for at least a minute. By the time he's finished, all of the other droids have fallen silent and moved a step back. For beings without facial expressions - or even faces, really - they seem amazingly chagrined.

BB-8 half-swivels his head to look expectantly up at Finn.

"Okay," he says. "Now. Which one of you did the General actually send?"

After some muffled chatter, a GNK power droid shuffles forward. There's a tray with a covered bowl and a pair of spoons attached by clamps to its head. Finn takes the tray and says, " _Thank_ you. Really," he adds because he feels sort of bad about yelling, when they were only trying to help. "Thank you, all of you. The thing is, I don't know that he really needs this much soup. So maybe some of you can come back later? Or see if anyone else is hungry? C'mon, BB-8. You can come in; he's awake."

BB-8 burbles joyfully as he precedes Finn back into the room, and the door slides shut behind them. He rolls right up to Poe's bedside, chattering rapidly. Curled on his side, his cheek resting on the heel of his palm, Poe listens indulgently, though his eyes occasionally stray to Finn. 

When BB-8 finally quiets down, Finn says half-jokingly, "Was he telling you all about his day? How he's so put upon?"

Poe shakes his head. "He says he stood guard, like you told him. He got to talk to General Organa, and Rey and Jess. He thinks some of the other droids are idiots who can't follow simple instructions, but he says _you_ were just great."

"Really?"

"Tell him, BB-8."

BB-8's response is a mystery to Finn, but it makes Poe smile so he decides to accept it, whatever it is.

"I have soup," he says. "It's from the General. I don't think she actually made it herself, but she sent it over, so if you don't eat it, you're disobeying orders. D'you feel up to eating now? I think you should try."

"I don't feel up to _anything_ ," Poe says plaintively. " _Everything_ hurts." At BB-8's sorrowful croon, he adds, "But I think I'll live, thanks to you two. I'll eat. I just don't know if…" He tries to push himself up on one elbow, but Finn can see how he's shaking, how even that effort leaves him winded. So Finn sets down the tray and goes to him, climbing back into bed beside him and helping him up with an arm around his shoulders. Poe groans, but BB-8 whistles encouragement and Finn murmurs, "It's okay, it's okay, I got you--"

When he's settled against Finn's chest, his still too-hot forehead like a brand against Finn's neck, Poe snuffles, "M'sorry."

"For what?" Finn asks, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "This morning? I told you--"

"For everything. _Me._ "

He sounds perfectly miserable. So Finn holds him tighter, briefly closing his eyes as he rests his cheek against Poe's messy hair. "You're no picnic, Poe Dameron, I can tell you that. But we'll keep you."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. I mean, you're the best pilot in the galaxy - when you can actually fly. You're kind of ridiculously good-looking, when you're not being all pathetic. Can you think of a better reason?" Poe is silent. Finn opens his eyes and looks around the room; his gaze takes in the General's soup, and BB-8. He thinks about Rey and Jess dropping by earlier to see how they were doing, and about Snap, Iolo, and Nien Nunb teaming up to stop their commander from putting himself in needless danger. He thinks about Dr. Kalonia's kind words, and the droids practically falling over one another in the corridor outside, each of them determined to be of service to Poe. And that's just today.

Finn whispers, "They love you. All of them, even the droids. Every single person - every single _being_ \- here loves you." He was going to add, _So don't worry so much about being a pain in the ass, which you sometimes are--_

But Poe's eyes flutter open and, looking up at Finn, he says, "Everyone?" in such a nakedly hopeful tone, that he can't. He can't make a joke out of it.

"Everyone," he says, and from the way Poe's breath hitches, he knows what Finn is really saying.

"Oh. Me too."

Was he supposed to feel different? Because he doesn't, really. It's not even a relief, having it out there - though he doesn't regret his words. Maybe, he thinks, it's because Poe is feeling ill and vulnerable, so whatever he admits or confesses to shouldn't count. Or maybe it's because, deep down, Finn always knew. 

He's so lost in thought and Poe's next words are pitched so low that he almost misses them: "You know there's no one else, right?"

 _Now_ Finn needs a moment. Or several. He buries his face in Poe's hair while the sound of his own heartbeat fills his ears, momentarily drowning Poe's rasping breaths. "No more talking," he says finally, when he can lift his head. "You're gonna lose your voice, and then you'll really be useless. Wait until you're better. We'll talk about it then, okay?"

Poe nods.

Finn kisses him. Then he adds, because he doesn't want to leave Poe with any doubts - on the off-chance that he has any - "Me too."

Poe opens his mouth - then shuts it again when Finn looks at him warningly. And really, Finn thinks, is there anything to say? _This isn't scary. Jess was right. Oh, she and Rey are going to say 'I told you so.' But if nothing actually changes…_ If nothing changes, have they actually broken out of their holding pattern? Were they ever really in one? Does it matter?

He's aware of Poe's glazed eyes, watching him with weary curiosity. Finn kisses him again, then turns to reach for the General's soup, which smells good, and which he hopes is still hot. As he does, his gaze meets BB-8's. The little lighter pops out, and this time Finn knows what it means.

4/14/16

**Author's Note:**

> The person who left the prompt had a cold, and I wasn't feeling well, either. So, what do we do? Take it out on Poe! Poor baby, he'll be okay.
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thistlerosie), where it's mostly Star Wars, Hamilton, and cats (with some Star Trek, and hiking, and science thrown in).


End file.
